


Wake me up before you go

by A_Nobelmonster



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Abuse, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, M/M, On Hiatus, PTSD, Recovery, Slow Burn, The slowest, Torture, i wrote this at four am and forgot about it, im turning it into a multi chap to fix it, non-con, sucidal idealiation, sucide attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-13 14:07:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7979479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Nobelmonster/pseuds/A_Nobelmonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kevin leaves the ravens Jean tries to kill himself, Riko wont let him go.When Jean is forced to leave the ravens Jeremy gives him a reason to stay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I dont need a hand to hold

**Author's Note:**

> ngl the start of this will be pretty dark and semi-graphic. After learning about Nora's backstory for jean i really wanted to explore his character. the pain of kevin leaving, the unsettling moment when he is no longer surrounded by his abusers, and has to choose for once how his life will be. 
> 
> i wrote this at 4 a.m. when i was exhuasted and then forgot about it. i want to give it happy ending which is why im going to make it a chapter fic. because i dont have the heart to make this only painfully sad.

12:01 a.m.

“do you miss him” mocking. pointed like the finger nails at his throat.  
the other hand on his stomach keeping him in place. 

don’t kiss me

“there’s no one to run interference anymore.” Kevin was well manicured hedge, full of thorns and dogwood blossoms. he was an obstacle but not a wall.  
stop talking.

a wall is what Jean would need to keep Riko from him. 

how long would it take him to build a wall to physically keep out the Moriyama empire? if he ripped the nest apart and like his living quarters name sake built a home . bloody , fortified by pain and black. like paint , maybe it would run right off of him . run rampant staining the ground, suffocate anything living. 

you could call him a raven but his wings were clipped. 

Jean had already built a wall though , around his his head. he trapped everything thing there, like he was trapped. closed it behind rusted gates and watched every hopeful feeling decay. 

Rikos knee presses into the hing of his elbow, Jean watches his numb fingers drop the pairing knife. 

“no one breaks my toys. i will never let you either.”  
"i won't let you go."

Jeans fingers unfurl like a dolls limp limb, maybe he’s not even a real person. maybe someone gave a marionette a heart as a cruel joke. just enough to feel the strings of his life in the calloused hands of a rotting little boy. 

the other mans hands trace methodical patterns to his throat. pressing from the sides .  
into the thin ribbon of open flesh like it’s his personal life goal

to mock the desperate curving lines Jean had labored over fragile veins. Their both clothed in blood. Riko looks at home.

all Jean had wanted to do was go home . to France . he didn’t care anymore if it was in a pine box . he would cut a path through the ocean or himself to get there.

“kill me. “

“im not going to kill you.” breath ghosts over his ear. it scorches the shell of his ear, his cheek. Riko holds hell in his mouth and brimstone falls through the spaces of his words. “but it’s going to feel like it.”

the door opens. It’s James and Hadley. Seniors with signed contracts thanks to the gilded palms of the Ravens legacy. A golden blood lust in the fingers that hold down his wrist and legs. 

and unquestionable social ladder climbing yearning in the degrading elements of his clothes.

everyone knows how this life style is dangerous. 

The prince of exy stands in the corner and watches as his royal subjects obediently act out the artless play of aggression with Jeans body where his disassociation is the leading star. 

sigh. heave. thrust. 

Jean knows his part.

1:23 a.m.

the climax of the play. Jean presses his shoulders into the rucked covers beneath his back, he recites Verlaine and scripture and when all else fails he is flooded with silence. 

his stomach clenches , his insides feel like tetris moving into the wrong slots. Hadley comes to hold his arms and James takes his place ready for act 2. 

the fall of Jean

His teeth remained clenched. he wont cry. he wont scream. he wont be anything. 

was he ever anything? Riko doesn’t seem to think so. Kevin didn’t or he would have come back for him.

1:57 a.m.

god has left

all the angels have died. 

2:19

James is dressing his wounds ,as steadfast as he had raped Jean. no anger no lust . just an obligation. Hadley is no where to be seen.

Riko looks into his eyes searchingly, “i am your god.” 

his heart aches with muscle memory of despair crushing his lungs , cell death spreading through his limbs . 

he’s shaking apart like static snow and it’s to slow to be obvious but it feels like a natural disaster in his organs. 

“kiss me “ and jean does. a blizzard rages in the crevices of his brain icing out his nervous system. he cant feel a thing. 

and he kisses Rikos hand when it is extended to him. he blinks and breathes. repeat, repeat,repeat. 

6:33 a.m. 

Jean looks at the exy raquet in the corner of his room , the phosphines in his eyes translate micro mosaics of the dark room. Riko had said he was god . 

He tries to picture the static in his eye’s as the sweeping arches of a cathedral Jean had visited with his family in Nice when he was very little. the same lacking feeling of holiness rested in the air. 

Riko was no god. 

“Dieu est mort”

“ nous sommes tous “


	2. Don't know where i stand or what im fighting for

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allerleirauh knew this and she had unmade herself 
> 
> he and her, they were too similar he felt. 
> 
> As she wrapped herself in furs, he wrapped himself in ribbons of red and white. 
> 
> both wishing to no longer be the object of the mad king's obsession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please read the warnings. the following chapter includes the horrible miss-use of a household tool and casual torture.

3:07 p.m. 

There was a story, his grand-mere would tell, of Allerleirauh the girl with many furs. 

the girl who fearful of her fate ran and ran until her feet ached . Fear that made her wild as a fox in the dark forest with baying hounds of the king at her heals. 

and when she was caught , no longer did anyone see a princess but only the rags of something no fairytale desired. 

the first time he heard the story, in the warm dusk that whispered the arrival of summer rain on the patio of his childhood home, he had cried. 

that was not how it was supposed to end. that wasn't supposed to be her fate . 

his grandmother had smiled indulgently turning her face to the sky , she looked as if she had placed her lover in the stars. “Non non, mon cher. La vie n'est pas gentille.”

Allerleirauh knew this and she had unmade herself 

he and her, they were too similar he felt. 

As she wrapped herself in furs, he wrapped himself in ribbons of red and white. 

both wishing to no longer be the object of the mad king's obsession. 

4: 37 pm , Jean to Kevin : are you safe?

4:39 p.m. , messaged failed to send

6:55 p.m. 

every atom in his body felt polarized, repulsed from the single point of contact with Rikos mouth. He felt the damp heat of the other man's breath on his palm, it seemed as though if he moved too fast Riko would strike with a poisoned barb. 

“Break your fingers.” Baker stands to the side of the young prince. Apathetically holding the hammer in hand like a scepter. 

pacifism is such a violent act.

He's shaking apart and words he’s trying to keep quiet in his heart are falling out like an open wound 

“no.”

exy is the only gift life gave him. exy is the only thing his shaking fingers can latch onto day after day when the disappointment suffocates him that he woke up once more. there was nothing else. 

“Jean, if you don’t do whatever I say when I say it. your no use. don’t you understand?” 

“imsorry , I'm sorry I didn’-t .” but Jean does understand. Since he first came to the nest. he’s always known. 

fear runs through him as he’s forced to his knee’s , the unforgiving cement floor of the locker room beneath his knees. Fear runs through him and steals his heart running away from his body as Baker hands Riko the hammer. 

as Riko, fingers pull his head back so they are eye to eye.

he chokes on a prayer as the handle of the hammer is forced past his teeth. 

stomach rolling on the hair trigger of his gag reflex Jean tries to pull away and then he stills as Riko starts to fuck his throat with the tool. 

life is flashes of the locker room lights and the strain of trying to keep his mouth open wide , throat relaxed. 

“your so pathetic . drooling and crying like you hate this. you should have listened to me.” 

stomach acid rises to meet the end of the handle as it's pushed further and further into his esophagus. 

in and out.

Riko’s mocking him, what he had done to Jean. what he would do to Jean again if he toed the line. 

no matter how hard Jean tries to breathe through his nose his body feels farther and farther away from him. ebbing in a sea of white noise miles away. 

he does vomit ,once the hammer is out of his mouth and he gasping on the floor. His lips split open from before. Each breath fresh with blood.

eye’s closed his muted sense slowly come back one by one. the hum of the lights. the acrid lemon scent of the cleaning spray they used for the equipment. the taste of rubber on his tongue. 

the hammer is thrown to the floor beside his head. 

7:12 p.m. 

this time Jean does exactly what Riko says. 

Slowly he’s turning himself into the rags of something no fairytale desired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation: Grand-mere - grand mother  
> Non non, mon cher. La vie n'est pas gentille - no no my love, life is not gentle/kind 
> 
> i said i was going to fix things, this is not fixing things. but im gonna get there i swear. 
> 
> ngl the thing that makes me the saddest is thinking about Jean trying to text Kevin and his phone being disconnected. also thats the best thing kevin could do really. 
> 
> oh so many feelings. I did want to note that there is a specific reason i keep including the other ravens, im also having fun naming them. i probably will do another seen of him with the ravens and then skip ahead to him being with the trojans. because i want him to have recovery time already.


	3. You can hold on with broken fingers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when Jean was nine he dreamed of being a vet. When he was thirteen he thought it would be nice to someday be an artist. When he was 16 he dreamed of going to court. lately he just wishes he could dream of being himself. whoever that is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you probably know by this chapter that torture is a central theme to this story. just keep that in mind and all other warnings. I swear this will get happy soon. after this chapter I'm going to skip to him being picked up by the trojans. All this sadness is bad for my skin.

11:11

Jean’s been favorite his non-dominant hand too much, he knows this long before he misses a goal that he could have made when he was thirteen. 

He’s played through sprains and fractures, he should be able to play through broken fingers but his whole body is tired. 

Jean was made for pain. He was made for pain and exy and Riko but he was a having a hard time being good at any of those things let alone all three. 

And with Kevin gone Jean was Riko’s favorite doll. 

Moving Jean from floor to bed to court with his rotted fingers. Snapping his plastic limbs gleeful when it suited him. 

Pulling his strings so Jean willingly comes to him. A soft body with Riko’s signature written into his skin, over and over and over. 

Jeans not even sure what is abuse anymore, he’s heard himself ask to be hurt too many times. 

Like missing an easy goal. 

The ravens are the best. 

11:13

Google search: Est-ce que le 'simulacre de noyade' peut être mortel ?

Google search: Durée moyenne pendant laquelle une personne peut retenir son souffle ?

Google search: David Wymack

Delete search history

11:20 

Jean can tell you who the 15th president of the united states is, he can tell you who invented the paper clip  
And he can tell you that no, waterboarding does not kill you even after two hours. 

He can tell you that the average person can hold their breath for a minute and deep sea diver can hold their breath for five 

And Jean Moreau can only hold his for two minutes and 35 seconds. 

Riko had warned him for the last 12 years that the Ravens only had the best, and every minute he spends under the damp dishcloth from the kitchen struggling for breath is another minute he is committing to his memory that failure is not an option. 

1:20 

Ellis Montgomery, his partner looks at him in disgust. As if Jean were a child throwing a fit in a store . After Riko had left him, trembling on the floor and he had removed the fabric from his face and sat down on the couch facing the south wall in the lounge. 

He hadn’t moved since then . Montgomery had no sympathy, her soft brown aristocratic curls betrayed her arctic disposition. She looked more properly like a doll than he ever would. 

He knew she hated when he became detached like this when he looked every bit as soft as he was. She hated him because he was third in Riko’s perfect court and no matter how disgraceful Jean acted , Riko still preferred him to Montgomery who was number 11. 

But they were all like that , they all hated him for growing up with Riko and Kevin. They hated that even his pedigree as a bought child ranked him higher in exy than they would ever see. They circled him like crows not even waiting for him to drop before they picked the flesh from his bones. 

Montgomery hated him only second to Riko. She was there to unwillingly clean him up after every bend and break. She was assigned to him four years ago when he had first attempted suicide. She found him in the tub, submerged in the perfectly still water like a butterfly caught in tree sap. 

And for weeks afterward when he would be watched even more closely after an attempt she would stand by him and say , “ either get better at it or stop trying.”

“You should have made that goal.”

He should have.

“If you keep messing up there is no reason for Riko to keep in his perfect court.”

He’ll do better next time. 

“God you're so pathetic. I wish Riko could see that is the better player.”

I'm trying. I'm trying. I'm trying. 

“Next time do me a favor and keep holding your breath.”

2:00 p.m.

Riko informs them that the school for the winter banquet has been chosen

he's requested they sit across from Palmetto State University. 

Jeans going to see Kevin. 

Kevin whose life could have only improved upon leaving the nest and everyone in it. While Jean-

Jean is tired. he doesn't have the energy or bravery to be like Kevin.

he can't risk destroying his gilded cage and giving up exy. freedom is not worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translation: Est-ce que le 'simulacre de noyade' peut être mortel ?  
> can you die from waterboarding?
> 
> Durée moyenne pendant laquelle une personne peut retenir son souffle ?  
> how long can a person hold their breath for?
> 
> i used google translate specifically because its a little akward and off. i think after being tortured Jean would be a little off so that suits me because my french is rusty anyways. 
> 
>  
> 
> also, its really important to me to show all these over raven to reiterate what a toxic environment it is. how decent ( im assuming) people can not only condone but contribute to such toxicity. none of them are innocent. that's what having a unsatiable hunger for glory does to you.
> 
> edit: thank you to neferkitty for providing some (needed assistance) on the correct translation for the text.


	4. Rose thorns on your tongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I used to advertise my loyalty and I don't believe there is a single person I loved that I didn't   
> eventually betray.” - Albert Camus, The Fall
> 
> "Oh my brother, how bitter your absence has left me." - I.m.B.

11 p.m.

This is one of his most frequent dreams

Kevin stand before him, a reflective sculpture of broken mirrors

Jean can’t see himself in the mirrors 

But there is rain in the reflective cut surface of Kevins body

Darkness seeps through the cracks and there is only the vaguest dream sense telling Jean that this is a person. 

Kevin plucks a shard from his breastbone placing it into Jean's hands, he closes his fingers over the serrated edge but it falls through his hand. Soft bones unable to properly hold on. 

It falls to the white tiled floor underneath his feet. Not the black hardwood of the nest, questions bubble up in his throat. In English. In French. In pictures but he forgets them as 

he looks at the shard again

Jean bends to pick up the piece , Kevin stares offering no help even as the sharp fragments paints shallows lines on his fingers. No matter what he does he can’t pick up the bloodied glass and his fingers flow freely, red from desperation. 

7:34 p.m.

Riko sits at his side, personifying all the worst traits of Pandora’s box in human disguise. 

At the banquet table he can’t help but notice that Kevin looks well, He’s obviously drunk and leaking out the seams with anxiety but he looks…. Healthy. 

Jean was unaware that sickly foxes could nurse a baby raven back to health. He would have assumed their goalie would have snapped Kevin’s neck with his deadly maw by now.

In the Kingdom of Ravens, Law dictates the weak are devoured. 

Riko seems to be getting what he came for, the Foxes are tense. Unable to sense they are already two moves behind. Every synchronous movement of the ravens is practiced, each taunt meant to burrow in the softest bit of skin to ensure discomfort. 

And because he has been a Raven for so long his tongue is poised to strike, the butcher's son is subject in his viewfinder. 

Apathy blankets him in cool indifference, he is not scared of Kevin or Riko. He doesn’t think when he speaks. 

He looks at Nathaniel and calls in the name he used in Germany when he was 12, the moniker that lasted 6 months in Seattle and the name his father’s corrupted mouth cursed him with. 

It proves to be a mistake. The boy looks feral with reckless fear. A fox with his back against the metal bars of a trap. 

Nathaniel claps back like a thunderstorm trying to break apart the heavens. 

Jean's apathy thaws so very quickly he questions its initial existence. 

“you said you would take care of him.”

“you said you would put him in his place.”  
Kevin was ruining things again. He was living unburned with jean as his whipping boy pretending he didn’t see the bruises. 

He wouldn’t acknowledge the life of pain he left Jean to and worst of all he was letting his happen .  
Riko.   
Jean tried to fight the slowly draining panic that accepted the inevitability that Riko would react badly to this short but unforgettable interaction. 

“Learn your place.” It was the closest he could he to pleading without a knife. 

But Kevin didn’t know his place anymore and Neither did Nathaniel apparently so they both ran and ran and left problems in their wake. 

And Jean closed his eyes, just for the smallest moment when the Foxes were shuffled to another table away from them. He held on to the kind smile of Renee walker and her hair colored like the sun faded picture he had of his youngest sister. He held onto exy and what he could and hoped it would be enough. 

12 a.m.

Once upon a time Jean had thought about swallowing pins, holding thorns on his tongue and sewing needles between his teeth so when he was beckoned to kiss the tyrant both of them would be ruined. But only stone can draw blood from itself.

Jean hovers over the threshold of the hotels sleeping area intently tracking Riko’s position on the bed closest to him. 

“Jean.” He flinches. Riko holds out his hand to him like so many countless times before and Jean comes to kneel. 

“it must have been so hard for you to see Kevin. Your closest friend whose chosen an inferior team over us. “It’s the melancholy tone you hear from a spirit before you fall over a cliff to your death. 

Fingers gently slide over Jean's lips, he nods afraid of being wrong. 

There is whiskey on the prince's breath, Jean's head spins drunk by proximity. 

“I, too, feel that pain. Of losing my brother. The grief of having to face my own kin on the court we once shared because he will not see reason.” 

Riko draws jeans head in, a forceful vice on the back of his neck so that his cheek lay against the other man’s thigh. 

“We have to show them, Jean, we have to make them understand the perfect court is not a dream it is destiny.” A mad king.   
He doesn’t let go, “You can’t go against me, Jean, you can’t leave me.” Riko cards through his hair tenderly like a mother at the bed of an ill child. 

But Riko has caused this sickness. “never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the least angsty of all the chapters. but the burn is so slow it's non-existant, next chapter though. i promise. 
> 
> kind of a filler chapter kind of not. kind of makes me realize that this story may not only be six chapters long. Every time i do something for this story i find more and more i want to write about. Like the impact of Riko's psychological abuse. sigh. 
> 
> also i was thinking about something Neferkitty said and i realized that this story is a delightfully mashed up creation of poetry and prose. Which i think is kind of fitting because i feel Jean is low-key melodramatic.


	5. the kingfisher’s burden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alternatively titled "or you can’t hurt me if I can’t feel it." 
> 
> in which Jean has bad day because he had a bad past and is surrounded by bad people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to reiterate, this chapter has cannon sexual abuse, csa, self-harm and unhealthy borderline suicidal thoughts.

5:45 a.m.

When you have a mental illness, illnesses, you can’t actually be mentally ill

Not fully. You have to spread each symptom out on the table, every trigger and syndrome belonging on its own platter.

You can have a soup terrine of frothing anxiety, you can have something easy for others to swallow

But the messy dishes? Like the burnt will to live slowly oozing out of it’s broken cup bleeding foul smoke into the air, that must go. Everything else that’s unsavory must go

You can be ill but do not show that you are petrifying, molded inside.

Do not be ugly. Do not be a burden.

And today

Today Jean is an array of destroyed dishes. His feelings weep all over the court tripping up his teammates on his numbing depression. A clumsy child’s attempt of a tea party, he can’t hold anything in. His intestines threaten to spill out of his mouth every time Riko looks at him.

It’s too much. too loud. It’s too hard. The song and dance he’s been trained to sing in his sleep since a child comes out all wrong on these days.

Jean couldn’t carry a note to save his life.

He can’t slip into the rhythm expected of him and it all compounds with every misstep. His fingers ache from where had broken them himself as a reminder. Jean feels like a plucked string moving too quickly since Kevin left, and it’s been harder to be content with the view from his gilded cage.

He tries to remind his body to behave with every hard check but the bruises can’t hurt him when he’s so overstimulated he’s beyond feeling.

10:40 a.m.

The ravens play against Pennsylvania tonight, Jean has until noon to pull himself together.

He’s recited every game he’s played in since starting with the ravens,

forty-eight.

He picks a team at random, the Trojans and goes over every position and number and even the school they were recruited from.

It helps him focus, memorizing things. Kevin started that. Jean didn’t start having panic attacks until he was fifteen, years after the abuse had started. He wasn’t sure what triggered it, no that’s a lie he knew. he knew so well that the sense memory was seared into his nerves. It was his alarm clock.

The first time Jean was raped he woke to the harsh chirping of his alarm clock with a senior Dealer twice his size pulling his boxers off. His roommate McNeal, a freshman peeked around the door at Jeans slurred French.

So it was planned. He fought the panic and the reality of the situation.

He had been man-handled onto his stomach while he was sleeping and from where his face was smashed into the bed, one eye closed against the fabric he could see the older boy try to say something before disappearing in fear.

Jean had yet to experience this kind of violence but he was not unfamiliar with harsh hands holding him down tugging at his pants. Ripping the seams of his mouth open. Using him.

It had been a long time since Jean had been clean of this kind of pain.

Riko had always promised him that if he followed obediently, the harsh fingers on his skin would never go farther. If he stayed in line Riko wouldn’t cross the last one Jean had

How naïve he had been to believe that something like safety existed in the nest.

Riko had opened the gate to the Ravens, he had abandoned Jean on the steps of purgatory.

He and his partner still weren’t allowed to be apart even as he was assaulted so he yelled and pleaded and begged to the shadow of feet under his door. Hoping that the youthful sound of his voice drove a horror so deep into the heart of his roommate it could only be removed surgically.

Jean would see to it that neither of them escaped unscathed.

But most of all Jean was a warning to McNeal and every other teammate. The master, Riko, the Moriyama’s they owned the Ravens and all the players in it. They were all at the Moriyama’s mercy and if they wanted you broken, no one would be able to find the pieces.

Stay in line or you will become a toy like Jean. Stay in line or watch yourself be eaten by unkindness.

Even as the flashes of the camera from the senior’s partner on McNeal's bed went off he looked at the door.

No one came for him.

The next day when the alarm went off he couldn’t move from the floor where he had fallen, he laid paralyzed against his dresser where the knob tried to splinter his spine.

Kevin sat beside him putting a dictionary in his lap telling him to read.

He had no words so Kevin let him borrow his, he started at the top of the ‘M’s section and by the last ‘N’ when Jean didn’t sound like his lungs were punctured made him take over. At ‘Pestilence ‘the echoes of seniors laughing died in his ear and at ‘purity’ he has finally sure that the bile in his throat would no longer cause problems.

Every time he would flinch away with stuttering vowels Kevin would make him start the section over again until they came to ‘q’

Kevin never apologized. He never promised to keep Riko or the others away. He gave Jean three ibuprofen and a bottle of vodka he had hidden behind his back before leaving to go eat lunch.

It was salmon and brown rice.

McNeal vomited chunks of the fish when he walked into to see Jean naked and rubbing at the blood on his shaking thighs with a crumbling Kleenex. 

He got a new roommate the next week.

11:16 p.m.

In the nest sex was sex but it was also a game.

It didn’t matter who the players were just what they had to offer.

It didn’t matter who hooked up either, except for Jean, you didn’t touch Jean unless you had Riko’s permission. Not unless you were willing to risk your career. Riko didn’t just enjoy controlling Jeans life , he enjoyed controlling every aspect.

What he ate, who fucked him, when he arrived for practice in the morning or what color he wore. Honestly Jean thinks it would be exhausting trying to maintain that level of control over a whole team but it only caused Riko to thrive.

For Jean sex was a punishment, sex was to put him in his place and to relieve stress. It couldn’t be anything else because he wouldn’t let it.

It was the closest he ever got to feeling cared for too. The depravity of the idea wasn’t lost on him but he couldn’t be sad about it. Not anymore.

Jean was allowed to sleep with any raven who was willing to fuck him but he was never allowed to top or ask, those were the only rules. No one was allowed to give Riko’s toy the illusion of controlling something in his life. 

Normally he would avoid fucking any of his teammates but today when lighters couldn’t scorch the overflow of his emotions he need to hurt anyway that he could so why not sex.

Francis was amiable enough, Jean let himself pretend that the boys name was from home and not Ohio. He let himself pretend that he didn’t mind the other boys enthusiastic hands pulling him from the hallway into his room.

Pretending wouldn’t do him any good but sometimes he liked to think it could.

Unlike most of his other teammate's francais didn’t want to crush Jean to advance. He was power-hungry and foolish but he didn’t want to hurt him. Though he also wouldn’t stop him from being hurt either.

They had slept together a few times, usually on days where it felt like Jean was existing without skin, walking around with exposed nerve endings. When he need an extra push of something harmful to put him out of his misery and mind for a few minutes.

Why shouldn’t he? Why shouldn’t he enjoy his own destruction in a way he chooses? Not that he enjoyed the sex.

Francais breathed heavily and took too long to finish but he never tried to get Jean off. Jean didn’t want the fantasy of it being something nice.

He pushed Francais onto the bed both of their pants were already off. Jean supposed he like Francais because even though Jean never topped Francais let him feel like he was. Jean had no idea why Francais liked him. Riko said people liked to fuck Jean because he had such a responsive body, Kevin said it was because Jean had an attractive physic. Either way it usually meant trouble when someone took an interest in him. That Jean should be weary but even if things took a turn for the worst, what could he do?

Nothing.

There is never anything Jean can do but try to die on his own terms.

Even if it’s slowly during sex with teammates that don’t like him but don’t hate him as much as the others.

“god Jean, your so hot.” He thinks it's strange to hear, he’s already sinking down onto Francais dick. He doesn’t need to be wooed.

“non. Shut up” Jean’s body flushes automatically. He’s a wooden boy without a soul, there's nothing attractive about that.

He slides down dry, it takes longer. Jean doesn’t want the added kindness of lube or stretching. Francais moans while Jean focuses on the pain. He bottoms out not giving himself a chance to adjust before raising up again. Jeans legs are well muscled from years of exy, they take the strain on the repetitive movement easily only starting to really burn after several minutes have past and sweat rolls down his back in thin lines that mirror the cane scars .

Francis unknowingly grabs at the freshly charred circles on his upper thighs, Jean gasps for what is easily mistaken as pleasure which spurs francais into actively thrusting into him chasing his own pleasure.

Jean could move the rough fingernails scratching his wounds opens but pulses of electricity fire down his spine. His body is collection of fireworks that have accidently been ignited and now set off each other in a chain reaction. It overwhelms him to the point of white noise canceling every other sense out. For a moment he is not a poorly gathered hoard of broken china and messy feelings. For a minute he is removed from the narrative.

7:00 p.m. Game Start

The captain of Pennsylvania’s state team reminds Jean of the inverse image of Jeremy Knox. Perhaps it’s the obnoxiously kind smile or maybe it’s the green eye’s that convey a deep sense of love for exy.

Jean needs exy. He was bought and made for it. Exy is the only purpose he has. Can you love something that you fear?

They are playing USC in a month, Jean will be able to compare the two captains. Maybe he will have an answer to his question by then.

They’re going to win. It’s inevitable like the sunrise or dying of Ebola once it’s contracted. And just like both of those events, tragic in their own way, Jean takes a moments to enjoy the soft kindness in the other man's face before everything changes.

They win 6- 13. No one from Pennsylvania is smiling anymore, they are all bleeding out in the sun's morning rays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh, my goodness look at me consistently updating. do not tell the teen wolf fandom (i am 6 months late for them). 
> 
> sooooo I'm borderline about time-skipping but I am committing to proving that this is a jerejean fic by casually bring up the trojans during this chapter. This was only supposed to be around six chapter but i feel like it might be worth it to expand it into a long fic. don't quote me on that. (but if you feel thats a good idea please say so)
> 
> it's kind of weird for me because I prefer to read dialogue heavy fics but I just can't picture jean being super talkative with the ravens which is why its all mostly internalized or reactionary. so yes I did give him select mutism. I'm also trying to touch on the PTSD while he's still with the Ravens. 
> 
> also, it was kind of weird writing nice raven characters? well, they aren't that nice because a good person would have intervened but they didn't actively hurt Jean so that's something. 
> 
> you can find me on tumblr @poze-laceen


	6. An Unkind happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alternatively titled , please haunt me just a little longer
> 
> One way or another I'm gonna see you  
> I'm gonna meet you  
> One day, maybe next week  
> I'm gonna meet ya, I'm gonna meet you  
> \- unitl the ribbon breaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all i think we need some happiness in this story and since it becoming a long fic (jeremy will have to wait but we'll see him very soon) i improvised. Thank you, Lina for being the inspo. for baby Jean as well as a sounding board and etra & nearlyfiction who inspired the chapter with this song. 
> 
> playlist for the chapter:
> 
> Heathens by 21 pilots   
> One way or another by until the ribbon breaks  
> Tag your it by Melanie Martinez   
> MIND: Path to Thalamus Soundtrack - I Am a Man Who Will Fight for Your Honor

7 p.m. Marseille , France

“Do you remember what the weather will be today?” 

The sky in his eye’s and he doesn’t want to say, doesn’t want to break the calm spell over the forest. 

Not with her, not when these times are the happiest he ever is.

“Is it rain?” she twirls a poppy between her thumb and index finger, a spinning red dot in the evening light. “You look like a rain cloud Jean, you’ll be at home.”

Jean nods even though he hates being teased. she smiles so disarmingly, he feels like a gun without any bullets that have been filled with flowers. He feels like something made for bad things that's been saved. 

She has a way of doing that, Marie could make the clouds dry their tears.

“Be nice or I won’t share my cake with you.” he lies. Jean isn’t very good at lying, though. His face is too honest his mother says. Nothing can hide in the expressive planes of his face and survive. 

Marie sits beside him giggling with her flower crown resting on the crests of her blue cotton dress. She leans against his shoulder, it makes something in his stomach turn. He is so content momentary panic floods his heart like the destruction of a nuclear power plant. Every cell in his body aware that he is so completely happy. Every atom fearing the day's end. 

Her shortened black hair lays against his neck as he splits the small iced cake in his hands, he hands her half watching blackberry jam stain her small fingers tipped with red polish. 

She chases away the early fall chill, “you know. You're my favorite little rain cloud Jean.” blush the color of her nail lacquer paints his face. It’s the cold he tells her later but a part of him loves her so much that he can't be embarrassed. Not really. 

With jammy fingers, she places the flower crown Jean made her on his head. “Oh, it’s raining.” he looks up, the sky is clear but water streaks down Marie’s face past her trembling mouth. 

Jean wishes it were raining, he would open his mouth and let the cool moisture fill his throat in hopes of diluting the acid rising in his belly. 

She knows. 

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I can't stop them from taking you away Jean.” His heart thuds like a clock,  
it ticks down saying “soon, soon, soon.”

More than any monster he feared as a child Is the way she keeps saying his name, like while he's away he will forget what he is called and who calls him that. Jean wants to reassure her that he could never forget the stars much less who he is. 

“I’m sorry I can’t stay.” his eyes burn. They grew up hardly children at all, adults before their bodies could understand anything but the pressing weight of duty. It was in the way his mother told him to be practical as he proclaimed he would be a painter one day, It was in the way his father never hugged him or held him or smiled. 

Marie was the first one he could ever remember smiling at him. Before the sun and the moon, she was the first light in his life. 

She is crying for both of them in the tears that Jean's tired eyes won’t allow. He bends down to kiss her cheek. The world is scented with sugar and fall leaves and salt. 

He presses his face against the damp surface of hers, his hands knotting her fingers tightly . “you are my favorite star, Marie.” 

Though he is scared. Though he is just a boy. Though he is just a toy, he will cherish every minute of this countdown. He will not waste it crying or screaming. 

He will run through the forest with his eldest sister, he will eat lemon iced cakes and make flower crowns from wild flowers and hope his heart fills with enough joy to last a lifetime away from the stars. 

3:22 p.m. 

Jean was a secret keeper now. Of his own. Of others. 

He kept Kevin's though it could have cost him his life. it still could. Months before Kevin had been forced to leave he had wanted to leave. 

It was a slow thing, like the wind in winter or the growth of a tree. It had taken years as the Moriyama's loyal pet for Kevin to see that even he too could be euthanized. 

Rikos anger became more erratic. Bruising that had to be covered by layers of paint in a less subtle manner, like the dent of a wooden dresser. The marks remained if you looked close enough and as much as Kevin feared the nest he feared losing the last piece of his mother more. Exy was Kevin's only future, the only future that he choose for himself willingly. 

Jean kept that secret and he kept the next one ,

where they had so subtly stole into the Master's house one winter day and taken their futures. 

They should shouldn't have been there. They shouldn’t have come to the Masters home and if Kevin was not with him he would fear certain death.

But at the time Jean had thought Kevin would always be afforded the luxury of being a well-kept pet of a high pedigree. You do not kill a show dog. You don’t kill the son of exy. 

Jean was neither and Kevin knew this. 

And yet it was Jean who Kevin turned to with shaking palms like a tropical forest during a monsoon and in the downpour asked Jean to keep one more secret. 

Kevin knew who his father was, he had found a letter and after graduation, he would find him and he would leave the nest. 

And yet Jean agreed. He agreed because he could still remember Kevin as a younger boy with bright eyes who wouldn’t cry despite his mother's death, who only clutched onto his small exy racquet like it would save him from the sea of savage emotions he was caught in. 

Jean remembered finding solace in Kevin’s grief which matched his own and he did it for that boy so many years ago. 

Kevin might be the favored lap dog but even domesticated animals sought freedom eventually. Jean's family had always been servants to the Moriyama. He would most likely die in their name but Kevin didn’t have to. 

He could already see Kevin grasping at the world beyond the nest. The part of him that had been sleeping for so long, that had loved that little boy, loved this Kevin too. He swallowed the truth that day and while he was keeping secrets he stole one for his own.

Kevin wasn’t the only one to find a ghost from his past. Jean’s possessed him to walk to the cabinet in the Master's office and look for the ‘M’s . While Kevin anguished about taking the letter that proclaimed his parents, Jean grabbed his file memorizing the faces that haunted beneath his eyelids. 

Amelie Moreau  
Born 1971  
Occupation: Bookkeeper  
phone number: XXX-XXX-XXX

Sebastien Moreau  
Born 1969   
Occupation: Treasurer   
phone number: XXX-XXX-XXX

And beneath that only a number for Christine L'étoile, a personal escort for the Moriyama's. His sister and his only secret. 

The only one he had ever dared to keep for himself. 

2:12 p.m. Southern California

Five months later it was the only reason he had to hold on.  
The sky blisters with humidity even in autumn. Jean hates it. 

But he’s not here for the atmosphere or even the game. No, what he’s here for is behind the couch several meters from the hotel's entrance. The weight of his duffle bag disappears in lieu of staring at the woman folded gracefully into the side of an older Asian man like a crane resting its head in sleep. 

She must feel his presence as magnetically as he feels her. The room pulses with potential energy and Riko slowly ambles to the check-in desk, none the wiser. The woman smiles, sweeping her long black curls from her face before excusing herself in Japanese . 

Jean feels like he’s going to faint. He feels energized and drained all at once. His mouth dries as he looks at the decorative plants in the foyer trying to calm himself. He moves beside Riko who is collecting the key cards for the team . Standing close enough to be suffocated by the heat of the other man's body but god he would set himself on fire gladly in this moment.

Another attendant leaves to get her ice. She looks at Jean from the corner of her eye, a shade of green as striking as the forests of Southern France in the moonlight. 

He swallows his fear , and for the faintest moment, he can smell the vanilla icing of the cakes his grandmother used to make. 

“Do you remember..” do you know who I am? Did you forget the stars yet my little raincloud is what she really says, “What the weather will be today?” 

“Of course I remember” His voice lingers in nostalgia trying to swallow the glass shards of emotion embedded in his windpipe. Riko turns an interested glance towards him but is busy distributing rooms within minutes. The other attendant has yet to return. “it may rain .”

“I see, dress warmly then.” The older man she had come with walks over winding his rough hands around her waist. A fraying rope whose only worth is in its former use. 

Once the attendant returns with the bucket she turns to him fully. Jean doesn’t want to keep secrets anymore he just wants to hold his sister. They are both dying as they have so many times before while still asked to carry on. They will be reborn again and it will be the same lingering wound again. 

He hears his name faintly said by Riko. Christine’s heel wobbles dropping her and the ice to the floor. Jean is reminded of his dreams of a Kevin made of glass as he looks at the shining surface where he finds himself on his knees.

it hadn't been a conscious choice to follow her down but of course he would. Just as she had followed him around the earth. 

“Oh my goodness how clumsy of me.” they are both chilled from the ice, Jean tosses the cubes with careful precision to bring his hands close to hers. She chases the chill that has long since lingered in him from his bones. 

“It was worth it, all of this if I could see you just once more time. Just once,” she says in low french where their heads are bowed. Children in prayer to a benevolent god. Spirits that have found each other in the afterlife. 

Jeans being jerked from the ground but his head remains in the stars. 

“Jean get up, they have employees for a reason. “ Riko reels him tightly like a caught fish. He imagines the ache in his heart is the thin metal of a hook. “What's wrong with you? We have things to do.” 

Thats right. They have things to do and the world turns as it always does but the sun has come out even during the rain. Just like it always does and that's what Jean keeps in his heart. That the sun will return no matter how long he spends in the darkness of the nest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna try participating in NaNoWriMo writing personal non-fandom things which is why I'm updating as often as I can force myself (im not really forcing myself tbh). 
> 
> I've been throwing the idea around because I want to involve Jeremy but if it's a long fic that hard so I think I might do a companion piece for him that begins with him starting with the trojans and end wth or rather merges with him meeting Jean. it won't be very long but I think it will be fun. 
> 
> this whole this is kind of spiralling into a bigger project than I meant than when I found this in my draft but I've grown really fond of it and it's made me step outside my comfort zone as a writer which I feel is super important. I feel like the tfc fandom has been a really good place to grow as a writer and ive received so much positive feedback that im really a better person now too. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has been reading the story and commenting , giving kudos etc.


	7. Gingerbread boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean has met Jeremy Knox multiple times over the years. Not that it registered as particularly eventful to either of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know i said i was going to take time off for NaNoWrMo, i didn't really lie cause i included this in my writing plans. Warning for mentions of exploiting a minor, nonconsensual drug use and creepy Riko.

Jean has met Jeremy Knox multiple times over the years. Not that it registered as particularly eventful to either of them.

For Jean, Jeremy was of brief interest to him. A series of poorly saturated images that recalled each year with a specific mood. First-year Jeremy was a smaller guarded boy that moved through his team as wounded malevolent spirit. The first time Jean saw Jeremy start he was called off the court after only five minutes of play.

Second year saw a much less pained version of the now Captain, though whenever his exuberant teammates congratulated him he looked as if he would break from the praise. Perhaps he did break eventually under the kind gazes of the Trojans.

Third year emerged a tentative joyful and kind assistant captain. More often than not a contented smile warming his face where a frown had previously lived. It amazed Jean , for a short while at least , that someone's attitude could change so dramatically. Every time they met it was as if the USC players cells were being replaced one by one until he was an entirely new creature.

Jean had always been a golem made of dirt to do the bidding of whoever placed their orders on his tongue. He wondered what such a metamorphosis would taste like compared to the bloody parchment in his mouth.

Jeremy, he could guess saw Jean in only one way. As a decent player, nowhere near as skilled as Riko or Kevin. An athlete that performed proficiently resulting in an unavoidable mental slip to his peripheral vision.

In the beginning, the tragic look in Jeremy’s eyes? has had drawn him in as kindred spirits do. Jean had felt a finite attraction but that faded as Jeremy had changed, radioactively decaying to contempt as fine as sand.

It would do him no good in his own life to look for life rafts in an empty sea.

The game against USC technically went without a hitch. The Ravens won by two points, a respectable difference between two of the best teams in their section. Riko made the final goal as customary of the team's captain which should have ensured a peaceful night if not for the fact that ten minutes before game's end Jean's partner had fouled earning himself a red card giving the Trojans the points to break their tentative tie.

Since the entrance to Edgar Allen, they were all taught to maintain the lead. The fact that they had been tied was already worrisome with the Master's wrath but having given away points left most of the Raven uncomfortably numb with anticipation of punishment.

Jean could laugh, it went without saying that he was the favored whipping boy. That the others had the nerve to look so dead with fear was an affront to his own imminent suffering.

11:43 p.m.

After the game, Jean is not surprised that Riko subtly places his hand on his lower back guiding him past the hallway with his room and rather down to the end where Riko’s room awaits.

Riko does not see Jean as a person. He see’s Jean as little more than a series of arranged elements to manipulate as he pleases. Riko see’s Jean as a non-living thing that behaves just humanly enough to take joy from as the brutal prince makes him bleed.

A golem that plays, a doll that can speak, a pincushion that cries.

From the moment Jean arrived, the only human thing about Riko had been his willingness to explain how he would hurt Jean.

They enter the Riko’s hotel room and Jean locks the fear that has taken residence in his chest behind his heart. He lets the world simplify to a series of one-word notions.

Cold:

The room’s air conditioning unit is on.

Dark:

The only light coming from the table lamp between the beds.

Sadistic:

The way Riko goes to his bed lounging across the satin hotel blankets as he waits for Jean to notice his own bed for the evening. 

On the unoccupied bed is a black and white maid's costume. Apathy momentarily melts from his vision. Jean’s startled by the kindness because this meant just humiliation, not pain. This is a private show for Riko, no one else has been given tickets. Jean will suffer the humiliation of dressing up and embarrassing himself for causing Riko shame. Only once before has Riko been this soft towards him in a way that is more mentally damaging than physically. 

It could be summed up in one word: Elizabeth. 

-

A small white cat, Riko told him she was a month old.

He had gotten her for Jean during one of his worst weeks. She seemed to be an apology for Riko’s brutality, for facilitating his sexual assault. The first time.

Jean had solemnly been completing math homework when Riko entered his room. Too numb to hide away, he sat calmly waiting for the hell Riko chose to unleash next.

Riko smiled at Jean stepping closer.

“Oh, Jean don’t look so sad. You understand, don’t you? If I'm not the one to discipline you it will be the master. He doesn’t care for you like I do Jean.”

Jean speared the ragged edges of his fingernails into the soft flesh covering his palms. Tightly he held on until his fingers radiated warmth from blood beneath the surface. No, Jean did not understand. He had been at Evermore for so long already but the kingdom of the Ravens had yet to make order for him.

Perhaps Riko was right, though. No one here would ever care for Jean like Riko did.

The moment breaks apart with small mewling noises. It’s been so long that he’s been outside that until the tiny creature is presented in front of his face he can’t comprehend what it is.

Jean doesn’t take the animal, he pretends his hands are stapled to his thighs and doesn’t move. He is used to Riko’s cruel games so he waits.

Cupped in Riko’s finger the cat lounges contently. This is what Jean could be if he would accept his fate. This makes him hate the kitten but his traitorous heart also wants to hold it. The cat is pure and untainted by the world yet, if Jean held it would it’s fur remain white, though? Or would she be stained too?

“Put out your hands.” The softest command Riko has given in years and Jean's body moves obediently allowing the warm weight of the kitten in his palms.

“She’s yours, “ with Rikos hands now free he gently pats Jean's cheek smiling. “A gift for last week, I do hate hurting you, Jean. I want to give you nice things if you’ll let me. If you’ll be good.”

The kitten purrs happily, after several minutes of Jean watching her attentively he is amazed that her fur remains white and turns to Riko in wonder. Hesitation is blatant in his expression. 

“Do you like her?” Jeans head bobs like a fishing lure in still water. “Say thank you then, Jean.”

“Thank you, Riko.” Later a cat bed , food, and litter box are brought in. They feel like props set on a stage. They sell the authenticity of the play but Jean can’t help looking for the strings when Riko finally leaves for his own room.

Jean names her Elizabeth that night. He is careful not to refer to her as anything other than cat. In survival courses you are given a rabbit, they tell you not to get attached to your dinner. Jean finds himself drawn to her quickly but he will not give any of the ravens the satisfaction of knowing that. He won’t let them know he named his dinner or let them laugh in his eventual pain.

Honestly, it would not surprise Jean if Riko would have him kill the animal. Whatever human part that lay in Riko’s heart from birth withered to decay with every year.

She feels too fragile to set on the floor where careless feet trudge so he sets her on his bed where she watches him sleepily complete his homework. As he gets ready to go to bed he sets her cat bed on the floor beside his dresser. He tries not to recall the press of the cheap wood knobs in his spine as he sets up the food and water dishes . For however long he has her, he will protect her from the ghost of his pain.

Setting her into the soft material of her bed he silently wishes her a goodnight before returning to his bed. Jean lays on top of the covers unwilling to let himself be caught and trapped as he was before. The lights are turned off but his thoughts are not. They swirl as wraiths above his head. Will he be asked to snap Elizabeth’s neck? Will he watch as Riko permits other Ravens to torture her? The pain of the unknown sours his stomach.

He is brought out of his gruesome thoughts by the sharp whines of the infantile creature. Jean waits to see if she will calm but instead he is presented with the sound of cloth ripping. He leans over to see Elizabeth’s small pale face staring at him from where she has attempted to scale the bed skirt. She cries when they make eye contact. Afraid of upsetting his newest roommate he gently untangles Elizabeth before placing her on his lap. Never having had a pet Jean is unsure of what to do. Will she be alright sleeping will him? Anxiety fills his lungs when he thinks about her falling from the bed or rolling onto her but more than that anxiety is the possible cruelty of his roommate. Jean won't give any of them a reason to harm her.

Laying with his limbs tucked to his side Jean waits for the cat to curl up on the bed. She walks unsteadily over to him purring audibly while stepping on his face before finding an acceptable place in the crook of his neck.

For weeks he cared for the kitten. Watching her closely, hiding her from other when the situation became turbulent and putting her safety above his own. Riko let Jean keep her for a month. Let the cat provide Jean with comfort when his body ached from dark staining bruises. When his breath stuttered in his chests after vivid dreams of water.

For four weeks Riko’s hands were soft on Jean's flesh, some bruises had even begun to fade. No time before could Jean remember being happier and he fought to hold that tight to his chest so that no one else would know of his hope and tighten the noose he had made himself.

It was a Sunday after morning practice when Riko summoned him telling him to bring the cat. Elizabeth rubbed against Jean’s chest concerned as his pulsed raced ahead of him. Before they had left Jean's room he had kissed her fluffy cheek in apology . Tears settle like acid rain in his clogged throat. His eyes remained dry as Riko led him up the stairs to the door leading to the outside of evermore. A kind woman with blue eye’s the shade of the sky behind her greeted them.

“Oh, she’s beautiful.” A smile bloomed on her lips that tempered the rising confusion tangling its way through Jean's thoughts.

“See Jean? I told you I would find her a good owner. It’s ok, I know you’re sad but it’s really for the best.” The woman’s smile tinged with sympathy for Jean before looking to Riko who gave a slight nod plucking the kitten from his cold fingers.

White noise filtered in. This was a lesson, Riko wanted to make sure that Jean understood that. Behind them, a nameless first year appeared with Elizabeth's accessories being ordered by Riko to take them to the woman's car.

“I know you're busy but I live super close to campus….If you ever wanted to you could come by to see her.... “ She adjusted the flowered scarf in her curly dark hair as she said this trying to come off as comforting to the kid .

Riko put a well-muscled arm around Jean’s shoulders as a facade of brotherly comfort. “That’s so kind of you, I will make sure Josh gets your information. We would love to keep in contact.” Slivers of his predatory nature were leaking from his media natured smile. Riko never did do well with actual human beings for long.

Jean had seen this moment ending in Elizabeth's death with her blood on his skin, not her adoption and subsequent freedom. His mouth wouldn’t move despite his attempts, a creaky nod bowed his head forward and back twice.

It took another five minutes and forty-three seconds for Elizabeth's new owner to drive away. Another ten seconds of Riko waving goodbye before he leaned into Jean’s ear.

“I own you, Jean. I am your god. I give and I take away as it suits me.” Jean understood what Riko was not saying. Elizabeth was to show him that he was a pet as well, and as his owner Riko could give away or kill Jean as he pleased.

-

12 a.m.

The same smile from that time has reappeared.

“Jean, Jean, Jean. Oliver made me look very bad out there. Letting the Trojans lead us in the final stretch?” the sound of Riko’s tongue clicking was the same as the pin of an active grenade being removed.

The taller boy began to shake faintly, he knew he wouldn’t be hurt in a way that could leave marks but the anticipation rattled his skin. He sounded hollow.

“But I know you want to make it up to me. Don’t you? Say yes, Jean.” He could hear himself give verbal confirmation though his lips stayed weighted shut. Ventriloquism to hear what he desired was Riko’s specialty.

 

“Good. Now I was thinking about how I could help you do this, and I realized that seeing you happy would help. I got you a present Jean, why don’t you put it on.” If Riko wanted Jean‘s happiness he would have let Jean slit his throat open month's ago. The implication was that Jean would be happy making Riko happy came at no bigger cost to Jean than usual so he began to take off his clothes.

 

Riko’s eyes tracked the soft white thigh-highs smoothing out over his lean legs, saw lust in the way the maid's dress slipped over his nipples. Jean could not see the appeal in his tainted skin but maybe Riko did because he was the one to taint it.

 

The dress was intended to be short but on Jean's frame, it ended just above the slope of his ass. There had been no underwear included but there was a small black leather choker to taunt him. Unable to clasp it himself, under Riko’s impatient gaze he was forced to walk on unsteady feet to the spoiled prince. Riko notched the collar (because wasn’t that essentially what it was?) tight against the column of Jean’s throat.

 

“Jean.” It was a warning for him to play along.

 

“Thank you.” Jean sat on the bed, counting his blessings until they dissolved in the acid in his belly.

 

“Your welcome. You look so pretty, Jean.” Despite himself, his face colored.

 

It was as if he were a sunflower, seeking out the tiniest bit of warmth no matter the source. It was disgusting.

 

“Oh, you look tense, smile mon choux.” Jean’s childhood nickname sounded poisonous on Riko's tongue. Just another tender part of the boy Jean had been before he became Riko’s doll. “Why don’t we see if we can get you to relax. I won’t have any fun if you don’t.”

 

Usually, Riko hated french and would beat Jean for the using the language he was unfamiliar with. Tonight Riko took the guise of his mother tongue crafting it into a perverted facade of familiarity. He was baiting Jean to implicate himself in his own punishment. 

 

Breath. Relax. Reduce everything down to facts.

 

Riko stared at him before reaching for his phone. The cool air of the room was leaching into his skin sending bumps over the lacerated canvas of his biceps. The captain spent several minutes typing on his phone ignoring Jean before moans eaked from the small cellular device.

A male voice, so similar to the depth of Riko’s encouraged breathily, “Open yourself up for me baby girl. Just like that,”

 

“Ohhhh I can’t wait-” the words bitten off into an over exaggerated high-pitched keen. 

 

It was obviously porn by the volume of the enthusiastic sounds. 

 

“Oh baby, I'm too big for you right now. Let’s see how many fingers you can take first, wanna make sure you’re wet.” Jean wasn’t a stranger to porn though it wasn’t very common in the nest it wasn’t uncommon. When Riko first discovered online porn he had ordered a dildo under a senior class man's name and made Jean act several difficult positions that Riko had seen with the sex toy. Sex was still relatively new to them so neither Riko nor Kevin and Jean had heard of lube before. 

 

It was a painful evening.

 

Overall he thought the acting wasn’t too bad considering the idea of sex made him want to claw the skin off his bones and somehow the female actress seem to be enjoying herself. No matter how many people had been invited into his sheets he had never been able to sell himself the snake oil lie of it being pleasant.

 

He tried and failed. And each time it took him a little closer to the hole in the ground with his name on it.

 

Riko turned the screen to face Jean who flinched when he saw a small blushing woman with a similar french maid costume on. She sat with her back against the headboard of a bed , legs gracefully spread, her head tilted in the throes of lust with several of her fingers disappearing past the front of her lace thong. The male actor kneeled at the end of the bed pointedly watching her fingers with his hand on his belt.

 

“Now, she looks happy, doesn’t she? Why don’t you try?”

 

His fingers are stiff, the cool air making them creak as they curl beside his hips. Riko still has the phone held up, it reminds him of why he heeds the spoiled prince's calls. Riko and half a dozen other Ravens have plenty of damning video evidence on Jean. Clips of him being raped by last year's seniors after the final game of the season, pictures of Jean harming younger Raven’s on Riko’s orders, lewd minutes of Jean dressed in similar attire as now taking unknown drugs. Files with copies of copies backed up and waiting as ammunition should Jean ever grow his fangs back to bite the hand that feeds him.

 

Even without the data evidence Riko has always been able to manipulate Jean. It helped when Jean had stopped thinking himself worth protecting a long time ago.

He let his thoughts settle in the ruins of hate that cratered his mind. Thinking back to the USC and the Trojans whose captain’s eyes which had previously been veiled in pain now saw the light of love. He let himself curse the California team because that was the only thing he was allowed to cling to as he shamefully stretched himself on dry, calloused digits.

 

After letting Jean struggle for several minutes to finger himself Riko finally sets the phone down. He gives the french player a considering look before adopting a look of false pity. “Oh, that must be so uncomfortable. Let me help.”

 

His confusion has no time to morph into panic over the implication of helping and what that entails. Riko picks up a tube of lube tossing it across the gap hitting Jeans exposed thigh. “Johnson said that cherry was your favorite. He also mentioned how good you were at this….hmmm...maybe I should send him a little video. He’d like that, wouldn’t he? Seeing his favorite sex doll getting all worked up on a lube he recommended.” He taps the phone against his chin in contemplation. “You know what they say, Jean, a happy team is important.”

 

Jean takes advantage of the lubricant liberally coating his middle finger suppressing the sigh as the burn eases when he adds it beside his index. It’s not good form to turn away a gift even if the chemical fruit scent tries triggering his gag reflex when it brings the memories attached with it to the surface of his mind.

 

“Speaking of Johnson he told me that you can take a whole hand. Is that true? I’d believe it honestly. After whoring yourself out for so long you can’t be that tight.“ Just like the porn, this wasn’t a suggestion this was a command. The prince’s curiosity had always come at a cost despite the vehement curses that he was heterosexual. Things like sexuality and positive mental health were very easily convoluted in the nest.

 

He widens his legs so that his covered toes rest on the edge of the mattress providing space for a fourth finger. The mockery of being full like this causes the walls around his hand to flutter , he grabs onto any memory within reach to distance himself.

 

He thinks of Elizabeth for the second time in so many years. Wonders if she is safe and happy with the brown haired woman who lives minutes from his cage. Not for the first time he is thankful that she was given a home away from the Ravens. Jealousy at the thought of a kind owner bubbles in its throat Jean shuts it down before he can let Riko taint yet another thing for him. 

 

Ravens are carnivorous birds.

 

When Jean stirs the surface of consciousness after several minutes he notices that Riko is taping him. He’s so used to it by now that he doesn’t even let himself plead for the other man to stop, he won’t let himself hurt over small things like this.

Riko notices smiling his media smile, “Say hello to Johnson, Jean.” Jean has been so quiet for most of his life that sometimes he forgets he is capable of words.

 

“Hello.” the syllables come out in a frightful arrangement that suggests he’s been screaming for hours, they crumble past the ledge of his lips turning into dust in the air.

 

The Ravens captain turns the phone around letting his smile widen nightmarishly . “Wish you were here.” It’s really a talent. To be able to take something as dead as Jean and still manage to give him fear. Riko speaks in chess moves, always looking ahead to corner off potential mutiny.

 

Jean is too tired to turn this into a bigger exhibition so he adds his thumb gently past his scared rim allowing himself to breathe even at the awkward angle that strains his wrist and upper back.

 

“Wow, it’s impressive what a whore can do.” Jean didn’t disagree, he wouldn’t let himself hold onto that lie. He does let himself think that he really is getting off light when instead of dialing up the Raven backliner Riko carefully throws a vibrator at Jean instead. See Riko always lets Jean know what he was going to do to him because they are both aware that the biggest mind game he could play was to let Jean drown in his own helplessness.

 

And he would force Jean to come despite his past trauma and make sure that it was done at Jean's own hands to enforce this horror.

 

The vibrator was smooth pink silicone shaped as a wand with a small bulb at the end that would rest snugly against his prostate. Concern inebriated his senses in the time it took for Riko to speak again. 

 

“Let's play a little game, Jean. You're going to turn that on the highest possible setting and I'm going to set a timer for five minutes. If you can hold off on coming before then I won’t send the video to Johnson and the whole USC team. I think that’s generous don’t you?”

 

He bowed his head focusing on the feel of the joints of his fingers as they withdrew from his body. “Yes , King.” King was a power trip that usually incited benevolence from the other during times like these, Jean hoped it was the correct enchantment to appeal to Riko now.

 

Under other circumstances Jean wouldn’t have to worry about sexual excitement, he had none left. Whatever small flame there was to nurture was extinguished the same time Jean realized his bed would never be a safe place. A physical response as the result of something like a vibrator wrecked his odds. You can still get excited with the right touch no matter how insistent your tears are.

 

Finally, after trying for most of the night he was slipping past awareness. Perhaps it was self-preservation urging him to hold onto reality tightly but he never could block out the abuse like some of his teammates had learned. Not until these long stretches with Riko, they always ended with him floating beyond the confines of his body until sleep trapped him again. Riko had a mild look of fascination as Jean slipped in the vibrator until only a centimeter of the dial was visible.

 

The strong buzz of the sex toy reverberated past the confines of his skin into the space around them.

 

The skin of his back under the starched cotton of the costume was heating up. Set on the nightstand between them was Riko’s phone with the countdown hurriedly speeding towards the five-minute mark.

 

Jean shook where he sat with his pelvis tilted forward trying not to cry with the unfamiliar aching sensation growing somewhere at the base of his spine like an errant weed. Unfamiliar in the way that he couldn’t remember the last time he had been hugged but could understand the physical mechanics of two people doing so. His pleasure had never been paramount to any of his sexual encounters but one or two misguided hands has attempted to soothe the guilt of the situation by making him come.

 

The pressure of grinding his teeth between tense jaws did little to alleviate the growing unwanted arousal once it had planted itself in his body. The lace on the hem of his dress rose unencumbered by any sort of underwear.

 

1:52 a.m

“Two minutes. Think you can keep going, honestly, I think you could for at least another ten minutes?” Tears burned his eye’s at the thought, he doubted Riko really would but the anxiety of the possibility spun with his impending orgasm making fact shift effortlessly into fiction and back again seamlessly.

 

1:53 a.m.

Riko called every minute marker , at three minutes tears thick with confusion rolled down his cheeks. The space between his legs radiated heat that burned holes through his skin at random letting pathetic pleas into the small world of the room.

 

1:54 a.m.

The fourth minute was warning for Jean not to hold his mouth shut, Riko wanted everyone to hear what a good french whore Jean was.

 

Modest amounts of precum saturated the skirt of his outfit while lube clung to his thighs dripping down his crack to wet the comforter.

 

1:55 a.m.

Jean watches the fifth minute arrive through blurred vision collapsing at the cheery notification of time having run out. He came quietly taking his only pleasure in the softness beneath his sore shoulders.

 

“Aww see, you don’t look as tense anymore. I told you making you happy would make me happy. “ That was as good as a binding contract that Riko planned to stop for the evening , apparently appeased of his prior embarrassment. They had to check out of the hotel at six a.m. tomorrow to make their flight and it was currently nearing two in the morning. Bits and pieces of time had fallen through the cracks of Jean arriving with Riko to his hotel room. Consecutive minutes that added up to noticeable vacancies in his memory. 

 

1:59 a.m

Jean counted his blessings.

 

Once again Riko presented him with the screen of his phone in a melodramatic display he brought up the video he had just taken of Jean and deleted it. In the macro sense of Jean's world, this meant very little but his chest untightened regardless.

 

After several seconds of relearning how to breathe Jean sat up to remove the vibrator still pressed uncomfortably close to his prostate. His fingers circled the protruding dial before Riko demanded attention with the well-intended click of his tongue.

 

“No, leave it . You're staying the night” Riko turned out the lights in the wake of the comment leaving no room for conversation, only the faint humming sound of the vibrator and Jeans overstimulated exhales existed the darkness. 

2:00 a.m.

Jean had been a foolish child to believe that he and Jeremy ever had anything in common.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is me attempting to be festive. 
> 
> this is the longest chapter i have ever written and i can't believe it's on the sorta filler chapter. 
> 
> but yay for the slow intertwining of Jeremy and Jean's storylines. I still can't decide if i like this longer chapter style because it took a very long time to edit but I'm gonna try to improve the length of the chapters a bit. 
> 
> i hope y'all like this.


	8. Misfortune as my god

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate has a familiar voice and a familiar name: Jeremy Knox

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel that is the most frequently i have ever updated a fic. I impress myself.

13:21 p.m. room 1411, Southern California

_“This is channel fifty-two with your morning news and my Name is Sandra Snow here to give you your ten-minute report. Leading news for today, Eyewitness accounts report seeing Mr. Jean Moreau of the Edger Allan Raven’s being transported out of the Luxe City Center Hotel at 5 a.m. this morning. Mr. Moreau reportedly suffered a severe allergic reaction, he was been taken to a nearby hospital in critical condition. Sources say that Mr.Moreau received help just in time though and should make a quick recovery. The Raven’s were in town for a match against the Usc Trojans - “_

_click  
_

_“This is ESPN sports talk with Jeff Houston and Amanda Moore. Now Amanda what do you think of this morning's news? Edgar Allen continues to be the team to beat but you gotta admit they are struggling. First striker Kevin Day leaves due to career ending injury only to appear on the Palmetto State court and now Jean Moreau is out of commission due to an allergic reaction? You have to admit that’s some back luck. “_

_“You know Jeff, instead of calling them the perfect court they should be called the perfect disaster. How much worse can things get for the Ravens? I for one wouldn’t be surprised with a scandal at this rate- “_

Jean turned the television off in contempt. 

Riko had stepped out of the hospital room fielding calls of starved reporters since he and the Master arrived. It was never easy for Ravens to go to public doctors, hush money rained with effort to keep the Raven’s harsh discipline methods out of the wrong mouths. 

Upon Jean's arrival, he had been given a carefully selected team of doctors to see to him. Even now only two nurses were assigned to him, flitting like anxious cranes gracefully around his private room. Other than the Moriyama’s influence Jean was also reminded that to the general public he was a star. No matter how much smaller than Riko Moriyama the king of the perfect court he still burned with an intensity born of true athleticism that attracted attention. 

Jean looked out the hospital window taking time to enjoy the softly clouded afternoon. After he had woken up the third time finally able to stay coherent one of the nurses, Tim, had tried to ask for an autograph. Riko had chased him away effective as the gag order placed on Jean’s information while staying there. No one had bothered him outside of checking his stats hourly since. He reveled in the rare quiet time he was afforded. 

His private room was located on the fourteenth story of Saccadia Private Hospital that providing a picturesque view of Southern California he found to be quite agreeable. What would it feel like, to be outside right now? The wool-like appearance of the sky looked so welcoming he doubted he would even feel apprehension if he jumped from his room at that moment. Ravens were flying birds, it was cruel to clip their wings as his had been but Jean felt with conviction that if he could fly even for just a moment he would regret nothing. 

The male nurse arrived again with lunch, behind him followed Riko , the Master had gone back to the hotel to deal with the remaining Ravens. 

“Hi Jean, thought you could use some lunch. Your throat is gonna be pretty sore for a while so it’s all soft foods. There is apple juice, sherbet, Jello, and applesauce. You were asleep when the cafeteria closed so I thought a variety would be best.” The smaller man had come over to make sure Jean's pillow was providing him proper support. He could see the sleeves of tattoos poking out from underneath his purple hospital scrubs and the dimples in his cheeks. He smiled at Jean before talking in what was supposed to be a commercial stage whisper, “The sherberts really good. “ The Raven captain cleared his throat returning Tims voice to normal levels. “I’m gonna go . If you think of anything you can write it down and call me ok? You don’t even have to talk just press the red button.” 

The ravens watched impassively as the outsider left the room. Once he had Riko looked at the tray in disgust before up-ending all its contents save the juice into the trash. “ The wrong type of food got us into the mess, I won’t let you mess up your diet even now.” Hunger was a familiar relative to Jean, one that stood with him often. Whether it was hunger during the nights he was punished for running laps until his feet bleed or the hunger for self-destruction that left him aching in the mornings. They knew each other intimately.

Jean hadn’t been awake before to endure Riko’s admonishments and now that he was Jean could see the other winding up to strike. Of course, he couldn’t physically harm Jean in such a public setting but that didn’t stop his forked tongue from verbally lashing Jean. “You know you have a severe tree nut allergy, Jean. What exactly were you thinking? Is this another one of your little tantrums?” 

“I….did not know…” Neither of them were impressed by the staining force required for the frenchman to reply. It seemed that the aftereffects of Jeans suicide attempts always left both of them frustrated with the inconvenience but for separate reasons. 

“Jean I swear-” Riko, as he hates to be, is cut off from finishing his sentence with a knock on the sliding door. 

13:47 p.m.

Jeremy Knox looks distinctly uncomfortable. “I ... hope we didn't interrupt anything.” His smile is vulnerable with kindness too pure to be fake.

“No, of course not. Welcome, Trojans.” The short brunette beside the captain does not look like she feels welcome. Good, no one should rely on Rikos false comforts. A taller synthetic blond at her back grasps her hand casually.

“ Coach Moriyama told us you were here, he said it would be alright to visit. We...um brought flowers.” A squat case of white daisies was set on the counter by the sink. Jean knew the whole team by name, average game stats and position . However off the court, out of uniform, they were a vague mass of polite smiles. Flowers were an unusually subdued gift for the festive team. He observed the plant while responding, Jean would rather not look at the burden of sunshine in front of him.

“Thank you.” The Trojans captain relaxed with Jean's attention. Jeremy was ever the predictable childlike disposition, small amounts of affection calmed his nervous nature.

“of course. No problem man. How are you feeling by the way?” With partial vindictiveness, Jean swallowed melodramatically displaying pain in the action. This would hopefully inhibit a long visit. How was Jean? Barely alive and displeased by the fact.

Jeremy looked guiltily away from Jean, “ oh gosh sorry,” it wasn't an inappropriate question to have asked but it would have been for Jean to reply earnestly. Rikos phone chimed pleasantly as he received another call. Hesitantly he looked at the select group of Trojans and his caller I.d. before stepping out once more.

“ Well we just wanted to say that we're glad you're gonna be OK and we're looking forward to seeing you in better health at the training camp.” Someone has either scripted Jeremy to come across as very genuine or he has settled into good captaincy with grace that Jean has underestimated.

Jean nodded tired of talking as well as of company. He was well versed in nonverbal communications that loudly delineated his intent. The Trojans shifted awkwardly before unanimously agreeing to withdraw from the room in quiet goodbyes.

Jeremy, the first to enter was the last to leave. His eyes hadn't left jeans since his earlier greetings, while Jean tried to understand the shifting emotion on the others face he passively watched Jeremy bump into a medical cart.

The man apologized to the cart before crouching to pick up the fallen gauze packets. It was amazing to see his teammates empathetically flock to him to provide help out of kindness and not strict conditioning for cleanliness. “Oh it's OK Alvarez” he waved off her help with a contrite expression softening with embarrassment quickly. “ I got this , it's only gonna take me a sec. You guys go on ahead I'm sure Jean wants to rest. I'm really sorry about that Jean.”

Reluctantly his team trickled out leaving Jeremy to his task and Jean to his observations. Jeremey reminded him of the sky with its pleasant somber appearance. Unaided by his team this Jeremy was no less vibrant but it was with steady grace instead of exuberance.

A young woman with blond hair so toned it was silver interrupted jeans daze as she entered the room. “Mr. Moreau.” Her voice said 'I went to school for journalism before I was forced to take a job at the tabloids because of my student loans'.

Jeremy still says perched on the floor gripping a roll of cotton tape. His blue eyes conveying confusion.

“ I'm with the Arbiter I was wondering if you could answer some questions on the allegations of abusive training methods used by the ravens. “ She spoke quickly and calmly as not to draw attention to her presence that was clearly not authorized. Her voracious nature was so Raven that for a moment Jean had forgotten a question was asked.

“Leave now” his hollow tone was cut in severity by the pain but she still flinched.

“ Mr. Moreau a nurse treating you said that you had a lot of bruises and scars. Too many just for a life of exy. If you tell me I can make sure your story is heard. Jean, I can help-”

“ You are not authorized to be here. leave.” The Master's cool glare was meant for the reporter but he had meant Jeremy as well. Outsiders were not welcome near Ravens unless they were being fed on.

Jeremy's face was carefully schooled to disguise his alarm with his iconic cheerful nature. Jean wondered if that was a learned trait from the Trojans. To be both authentically kind while carrying the potential for something more. The report stood tall in a way that reminded Jean of a dying plant that had finally been given enough water. It seemed Jeremy was not the only one to thrive in tense situations. She came within breathing distance of the Raven’s coach. 

“Would you care to comment on the allegations of abuse in your team?” He knew without looking that the Master's hand opened with potential energy that yearned to strike the person responsible for speaking such insubordination. An aged viper was no less deadly. 

She smiled as wolves do to prey, “I see. Well, i have enough for now. Feel better Mr. Moreau.” Though the reporter's self-preservation seemed to error it was not completely ruined as was evident in her quick pace out of the room. There was a sense of foreboding in the tap of her polished black heels on the linoleum floor as she walked away. Perhaps there had been two devils in his hospital room today. 

Slowly Jeremy re-organized the medical drawer. His movements mirrored the delicate foolishness of a hero. 

What did being saved feel like?

“Ah yes , before I leave I would like to thank you again, Jean, for volunteering for the training camp committee. I had not intended asking today especially in your condition but I appreciate the help.” The Master pinned him with the glare so sharp he felt every inch the butterfly waiting for dissection once Jeremy left. 

Once a Raven junior bet Riko that a human could not, in fact, be stapled to a wall by the thin web of flesh between one's thumb and index finger. Of course, it had been a ruse to harm him, of course, it worked. The scar burned with the ghost of the memory. He was familiar with being the feeling of them metal adhering him too hard surfaces but dissection was not something he’d wish himself acquaintances with. He would not say anything to help Jeremy if he wished to play the hero it would be a solo act. 

“He is ill.” truer words had never been spoken from the bastard of the Moriyama branch but his problem much like cancer extended beyond the surface. His Illness was one allowed to metastasize in the festering darkness of the Ravens wings. 

“Yes but thankfully I heard he will make a quick recovery in time for the training camp, isn’t that right? I have already contacted my coach. We are all very excited to included Ravens on the committee this year. There is a lot we can learn from each other.” Jean has had enough of the conversation. He does not want to talk, he does not want to waste time on silly plans. His eye’s close against savior and jailer alike. 

Their voices lower, cold notions in a room burning with tension. “That is correct. In that case, then my Nephew will assist you as well. After all, there is much to teach.” 

There are no perfectly rendered emotions to distract Jean from the truth now. The Trojans captain speaks with barely confined calm, though his joyful laugh is untainted. “Wonderful. I will update my coach. Have a pleasant evening Coach Moriyama.” Jeremy’s words had been polite but there was no mistaking the subtext, I know what's happening in your team and I will not sit by idly. The subtle tone was the most gentle, fuck you , Jean had been privy to witnessing. Had he not been feigning sleep Jean may have smiled, regardless of whatever shapeless impending doom that lay imminent in the sunrise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rn im using this fic to channel my anxiety, so as long as i need an outlet there will be updates. 
> 
> In case you're wondering what he ate to have the allergic reaction it was a banana walnut muffin in Riko's room left over from breakfast earlier that day. 
> 
> Jean has a severe allergy to all tree nuts, this is never a problem in the nest because they have fancy ass meal plans and stuff. He was aware of the allergy of course and ate the muffin on purpose. He was going to go to the bathroom so no one could call 911 but ended passing out in the hallway and having a janitor call (who conveniently carried an epi-pen) call an ambulance. Tough luck my french bean. 
> 
> Next chapter there will be a training camp with the top 3 school and then Jeremy will be permanent because Jean will be at USC. I'm estimating about two chapters until that perhaps less because i'm a sucker for slow, painful recoveries.

**Author's Note:**

> oh, nsff (not so fun fact). wake me up before you go (go) is a song about suicide. as in tell me before you try to hurt yourself so i can help. which is how i figured Jeremy would be. wanting to help and be someone that even jean with all his issues can rely on 
> 
> oh and the last lines roughly (very roughly) translate to, "god is dead, and we all too"  
> edit: its kinda weird to say but i liked the rhythm of it in French.
> 
> you can find me on tumblr @poze-laceen and my nsfw @chaoticsavant


End file.
